


Their Words in Other's Songs

by Written_prose_things



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, Misunderstandings, Revelations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:15:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27083965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Written_prose_things/pseuds/Written_prose_things
Summary: Geralt and Jaskier visit the Redanian court for monster-hunting. Jaskier's change in personality surprises Geralt.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 6
Kudos: 152





	Their Words in Other's Songs

**Author's Note:**

> This is a form a prompt I found on Tumblr.

Geralt doesn’t know what to say. Well, he doesn’t know what to say on most days. But after having spent an afternoon in the Redanian court, he’s lost for words. Behind it’s lavishly decorated rooms and halls, the nobles within seem far more feral than beasts which Vesemir had taught them to fight.    
  
What strikes him more than anything, is the change in Jaskier, no,  Julian Alfred Pankratz ’ behaviour. Geralt realises now, that Jaskier’ reason for packing his lute away wasn’t as superfluous as he had led Geralt to believe.    
It’s a technique that Vesemir used with young trainees, who hadn’t had the mutagen added to their bloodstream. He’d make them connect an object of comfort with their transient human side, which, when hidden away signified that their human side had to be hidden away too. 

When they had first entered the capital’s walls, Geralt had turned to remind the bard to behave himself, fully expecting him to start spewing the insults he had thought up on their trip to the capital.    
But Julian was standing tall with the fakest smile, with an air of nobility around him. 

Geralt hadn’t known till then that witchers could be surprised. 

The behaviour of the bard in the court too was extremely jarring. He spoke politely with everyone, passing around insults bound snuggly in innocent expressions, backhanded enough that it took everyone a few moments to understand. 

Geralt had enjoyed the show from his seat at the end of the hall, till the king had granted him an audience, bringing everyone’s attention to him.

oOo

Jaskier led him back to the inn they would be staying in as the sun went down. Thankfully, he had been able to refuse the king’s offer for dinner without offending anyone. Or at least, Jaskier’s quick thinking that saved them.    
Geralt didn’t appreciate the stories Jaskier had cooked up about his eating habits, but the thought of sponsoring 40 different dishes had made the king apprehensive, which was a blessing.    
  
The inn thankfully was empty, which made it easier for Geralt to sit down and enjoy his food and ale, without being treated like a road-side attraction.    
The simple food that the innkeeper had left them with seemed much more appetising than the snacks he had seen in the court.    
But he couldn’t help but ponder the change in Jaskier. Not the one he had noticed today, but the one that had been years in the making, that which set the bard apart from his money-hungry family and power-seeking peers.    
The bard was a good egg, in a dusty rotten moulded coop. 

oOo

Geralt realised that his portion was bigger than usual when it took him more than 15 minutes to finish his plate, he would have realised earlier if he weren’t busy staring at Jaskier, trying to connect him to the sharp, cutting, snarky man he had seen in the court.    
It wasn’t that Jaskeir wasn’t smart otherwise, but his wittiness and insults were usually rounded off with a warm face, a true heart and a welcoming personality; all of which were absent today.    
  
The innkeeper kept returning every 15 minutes, offering them more helpings of the food. Finally, Jaskier declined all further offers and the man returned to the kitchen with a spring in his step.    
Jaskier commented under his breath, loud enough for Geralt to hear, “Seems like word of your appetite got around the city.” 

Geralt rolled his eyes and bit into his bread. Jaskier dragged him away from the table and to their rooms when Geralt was done with dinner. He used the word dragged generously, for the bard’s force was negligible. 

oOo

The innkeeper had prepared for them the best room in his ability, making it warm, comfy and far beyond the scope of the coin that Geralt had handed over to him. He settled on an armchair, while Jaskier flopped down on the bigger bed, the one which was clearly meant for Geralt, but would be used by the bard.   
Geralt didn’t mind it, he was used to sleeping in a small bed or even no bed at all.   
  
But it wasn’t enough for Jaskier, who grumbled playfully, having adopted his usual personality in the security of the locked room, “I mean, we’re the king’s guests. Even the least he could do should be better than this! I know for a fact, from when I was serving my time in this shithole that Calanthe’s envoy got a better treatment.”

Geral asked, “Calanthe’s envoy Wouldn’t they have stayed in the castle?”

Jaskier shook his head, “She brought a shit ton of people over.” He rolled his eyes, “Some stupid big dick contest between the king and her. So,” he waved his hands around, “we had to make last-minute rooms for them, in the inns of the capital.” 

He laughed and added after a moment, “That hoopla was a lot of fun. My friends and I ran around the entire day, bouncing around in the spare hangings and such that were being moved around the city.”

Geralt looked out of the window and smiled at the thought. He couldn’t imagine Jaskier being any younger or smaller than he already was. Obviously, he knew that human children were much more fragile and small, he had been one himself. But Jaskier still had the charm of a human child. 

At the sound of Jaskier moving, Geralt turned to look at the bard. But Jaskier was staring at him wistfully.    
The expression on Jaskier’s face, that’s what made him seem like a child. Like a young babe, who hadn’t learnt that witchers were monsters, who would follow Geralt around, entranced by his white hair and glowing eyes till its mother dragged it back. 

Geralt grumbled, “What?”

Jaskier smiled and shook his head, “You smile so rarely that the beauty of your smile blinds me.”

Geralt thinks he grunts back a noncommittal reply. He’s too busy trying to control his heart rate. It’s when the bard says such things that Geralt feels the most unsure. The first time Jaskier had completed him, Geralt had been well chuffed and although he hated to admit it, he had preened about it. That is until Jaskier used the compliments in a song.   
Since then, Geralt had never been sure of the depth of Jaskier’s compliments. 

Jaskier yawned and pushed himself off the bed, “Right, I’m knackered.”

Geralt smirked, “The only reason you’d get off the bed after saying that is if you were an animal.”

Jaskier rolled his eyes, “Calm down, why don’t you? I’ll just play a few tunes. My hands have been itching since this morning.”

Jaskier walked to the other corner of the room, where his pack had been deposited and pulled out his lute. He strummed it thoughtfully for a moment. 

Usually, Jaskier’s energy would be spent in strumming his lute throughout the entire day, even when they were catching monsters and then in the night, earning coin to get them a room.    
So, Geralt never really sat down to listen to his music. But tonight, he was the only audience. 

Jaskier asked, “Any requests?”

Geralt replied quickly, “Nothing about me.”

Jaskier smiled and began to strum the lute with a purpose, “Ever the humble warrior.”

Geralt smirked, “I try.”

Jaskier snorted, “Shut up. I see you fixing your hair up every morning.”

With that, he began singing. The tunes were just as bawdy and lewd as all his songs unrelated to witchers were, but tonight they were sung at a low volume, making it a humorous experience. 

oOo

After a few songs, when Jaskier’s yawns became too frequent to ignore, Geralt herded him to the bed. 

“Right, get in. You need to sleep.”

“Just,” he yawned, opening his mouth wide, “one song more.”

Geralt pushed him, softly mind you, onto the bed, “Tomorrow.”

When the bard was settled under the covers, Geralt took a step towards his end of the room. But he was stopped by Jaskier’s hand on his wrist, “Whereyougoing?” He slurred out, sleepily. 

Geralt looked down at the bard. The answer was obvious. 

Jaskier pouted, “But it’s too cold.”   
  


Damn him, it’s was late enough that the fireplace was beginning to cool down as well. Geralt had no option other than to climb into bed with Jaskier. 

The bard, as usual, clambered around and attached himself, spare limbs and all, to him. In the end, Geralt did feel just a little restricted, but it was a sacrifice he was willing to make. 

Jaskier asked slowly after a few beats of his heart, “Why were you staring at me today?”

The trap suddenly dawned on Geralt. Jaskier had trapped him in a warm and comfortable bed, only to badger him with uncomfortable questions. 

Geralt decided that the best option would be to ignore the question entirely. 

Jaskier continued, “You must have been wondering how I got out, despite my family and the court politics.”

Geralt hummed noncomittally. 

Jaskier shifted his head and his hair tickled Geralt’s chin, “But you know of my family. We’ve been to Oxenfurt together. I always assumed you must have realised...”

When Jaskier trailed away uncertainly, Geralt decided to speak up, even though it felt very uncomfortable. 

“I knew that you had fought your way of the family fortune and title that was to come your way. But I thought you had shed the skin of courtier. Seeing you today, I couldn’t help but wonder, how true you are on most days.”

Jaskier huffed, “Right, so I’m going to blame this on you being sleep deprived, so for now, you are going to be excused for doubting the only travel companion you have had for the better part of a decade.”

Geralt shook his head, but Jaskier couldn't see the motion. 

He made the effort, "No, that's not… I don't think you lied-"

Jaskier supplied unhelpfully, "But you wonder if I lied."

Geralt grumbled. Jaskier huffed and shuffled himself further into Geralt's collarbones. 

"Can you tell me what's made you wonder about this?"

Geralt huffed, "You say things to me. And I thought, well, I assumed they were only for me. But you sing those words to every audience you meet."

Jaskier shook on Geralt's chest, which terrified the Witcher. Had he made Jaskier cry?

But Jaskier's trademark hiccupy laughter pushed his concern into another realm. Was Jaskier making fun of him? 

Jaskier pushed himself off Geralt's chest with his hands, which had been pillowed on his stomach. 

"Geralt, you need to start communicating better. Have you ever heard the words I sing?"

Geralt grumbled. Usually, his time at taverns was spent haggling with innkeepers who didn't want to house witchers or on keeping watch on the drunk people who tried to get their paws on other unsuspecting customers of the tavern. 

"Geralt, darling, listen to me please." Geralt's heart thumped at the sound of the nickname. 

Jaskier placed Geralt's hand in his chest, over his light chemise, on his heart. 

"I love you. Every one of the words I say about you is what I believe with my whole heart to be true."

But. But, he shared them with everyone. 

Jaskier sighed and continued, "...Maybe, me sharing those songs with everyone else made you uncomfortable? But I’m not going to do anything about that unless I hear those specific words from you."

Geralt furrows his brows. Why does he need to say these things? But he does what’s asked of him. 

“I thought, those words were for me.”

“Yes?” Jaskier prompts him, enjoying the fact that Geralt is meeting his demands. 

“And I don’t like it when you share them with everyone else.”

Jaskier pats him on the chest, it should seem patronising, but Geralt only feels warmth and pride. 

“Thank you for that Geralt. I promise to do my best to meet any demands you have. I love you very much.”

Again with those words. He never knows. But maybe he can try asking. 

“You love me, like, you want to kiss me or…?”

Jaskier rolls his eyes, “What other kinds of love are there, Geralt?” 

Oh. 

“Sleep now. We’ll talk more tomorrow.” 

Jaskier moves to kiss him on the cheek, but in another burst of surprising confidence, Geralt claims his mouth in a soft kiss. 

Jaskier’s breath hitches, but his emotions stay sated and happy.    
  
After a moment they break apart. Jaskier smiles at him, he sides of his eyes crinkling, “Alright my wolf, sleep now.”

Geralt pulls the bard into his chest once again. He knows now. It doesn’t matter what he grew up with, no matter the masks he wears, Jaskier loves him and nothing can change that ever. 


End file.
